Ties That Blind
by Willow Edmond
Summary: When an accident takes Baron out of action for a long time, Hunter and Stephanie make him an offer he can't resist. But you know the old adage, "If something sounds too good to be true, it is." Will Baron end up lucky? Or is he making the biggest mistake of his life?
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:** You know why I write disclaimers? Because they prevent the title and then the chapter (in this case, Ties that Blind, then Prologue) from looking off kilter. Because sometimes I've noticed that happens. But if I write a disclaimer, that seems to fix the problem. Oh, sure, I could write something witty instead, but it's just easier to pretend to write a disclaimer. Most folks don't even read these things. But, in case you are a rare individual that loves Disclaimers, here it is... All I can claim to have created in this story are my own original characters and the story itself. Otherwise? Nope.

 **Ties That blind  
** _Prologue_

 _February 13, 2000_

She was six years old, not a baby anymore and she knew a lot of things. She knew how to tie her own sneakers, (chase the rabbit into the hole), she knew how to write, knew there were big letters and small letters. She could read a _whole_ book by herself, _One Fish Two Fish_. Some day she would read every book in the world, but _One Fish Two Fish_ was a good start. She could make her own bed, she could set the table for dinner. She could do _so_ many things.

What she _couldn't_ do was fix her daddy, and something was _wrong_ with Daddy.

Most of the time, she loved her daddy. He wasn't home much, his job kept him on the road so much of the time, but when he was home, _most_ of the time it was wonderful, or it used to be. Her daddy was big, like a bear and most of the time he wasn't like a mean bear, he was like one of those cuddly bears, like Smokey or something. Except he didn't tell her to prevent forest fires, although she had no intention of starting any fires, instead he would scoop her up and give her hugs, or chase her around the house until she was shrieking with laughter and Mommy had to remind her of her "indoor voice," and scold him about getting her all "riled up." But she would usually smile when she scolded them, so it was _good_ scolding, not a _bad_ scolding. Like Mommy really enjoyed seeing them happy, but being Mommy, she had to make sure they were following the rules, too.

But sometimes, Daddy wasn't Daddy. Sometimes Daddy had "bad days." When she was smaller, bad days meant she had to be very quiet. Daddy had a headache and the slightest noise would make it worse. So, she learned to be very quiet. Sometimes she forgot, and when she did, Daddy would scold her, a few times he even yelled at her, but it was okay, Daddy didn't mean it, it wasn't him talking, Mommy told her, it was the headache talking and using Daddy to talk, like she might use her voice to make her stuffed animals speak.

But, headaches became "Daddy is sick" and unlike when _she_ got sick, Daddy didn't get better, no matter how much he rested. Sometimes he seemed better for a bit, but then he would go right back to being sick. And being sick was different for Daddy, he didn't just lay in bed, instead Daddy got angry. And when he got angry, bad things happened.

 _I can be quiet,_ she thought, as she stuck her fingers in her mouth _. I can be very quiet. I can not make a sound, no matter what happens_.

There was so much _yelling_ going on. Not Mommy though, Mommy wasn't doing anything but _crying_. She wanted to see what was going on, hug Mommy and tell Mommy it was all going to be okay. She wanted to tell Daddy to stop yelling, to stop saying terrible things. She wanted to hug her daddy and tell him it was all going to be okay, that if he was sick, he had to lie down and _stay_ in bed until he was better. That's what she did when she was sick, Daddy needed to do that too. But she couldn't, because she made a promise. When the screaming had started, her Mommy had run into her room and pulled her out of her bed, she hadn't been sleeping, the noise wouldn't let her. But Mommy pulled her out of her bed, not caring that she was yanking on her arm, and that it _hurt._ When the girl wanted to cry out at the pain, the look on her Mommy's face shut the cry right in her throat.

And then Mommy opened the door to the closet and pushed her in there. "You stay in here," she ordered. "You stay in the closet and I don't care what you hear, you are not to come out. You are not to make a single noise, do you understand? I don't care what you hear, you stay in here, _do you understand?"_

She had wanted to shake her head, no, she did not understand. Closets weren't for hiding in, they were for clothes. But something about the way her Mommy was acting told her that she _had_ to understand, or at least _pretend_ to understand. So she nodded and her mother bit her lip, looking over her shoulder as if making sure Daddy's yelling was still coming from their bedroom, not getting any closer. "Remember, not a peep, no matter what you hear! I love you, baby."

Then she shut the door. And now the girl was in the closet trying so hard to be quiet, but it wasn't easy because the noises her Daddy was making were _terrible_ noises. He was screaming _terrible_ things, things the girl didn't understand, but she knew they were bad. Evil was never a good word. Neither was bitch. Bitch was one of the _worst_ words, bitch got her a smack to the hand when she once said it herself, so she _knew_ it was a really bad word. She was hearing those two words a lot, along with other words she didn't understand, but she knew they were _all_ bad words.

And the thumping, the thudding. So much of that. While her daddy screamed and her mother just made moaning noises as if she were the one who was sick, not Daddy. She thought it would never end. Except that it did end, there was a very, _very,_ loud noise, as loud as the sound she heard sometimes outside, a sound that always scared her and made her jump until Mommy or Daddy told her that it was just a car "Backfiring." But this hadn't been from outside, this had been from inside the house and there was no car in this house. But after that, it got very quiet.

The girl thought about leaving the closet, but she had promised her mommy and she suddenly realized her Mommy hadn't told her when she could leave the closet. So, this must mean she had to stay there until Mommy came to get her. _Hurry up, Mommy,_ she thought. _I don't wanna be here anymore_.

Then she heard footsteps in the hall, coming closer. Heavy footsteps which weren't like her Mommy's footsteps. Her mommy usually walked so quietly you couldn't hear her. She could hear these footsteps, heavy footsteps, like a bear might make if a bear wore shoes. Her daddy was like a bear, like a big old friendly bear, but he wasn't very friendly now and he _was_ wearing shoes.

" _Rhiannon rings like a bell in the night and wouldn't you love to love her?_ " a voice sang out, so badly off key that it _should_ have been funny, it _would_ have been funny, if she wasn't so scared. Her daddy couldn't sing, everyone knew that, even Daddy. He only sang when he wanted to make her and Mommy laugh. But she couldn't hear Mommy laughing and this wasn't funny at all.

She heard the door to her room open, heard the heavy footsteps coming into the room. "Rhiannon, baby, I'm singing your song!" her daddy called out, as if this was a normal day. "C'mere baby, Daddy needs to do something."

Rhiannon bit her fingers, very hard. Mommy told her not to go out no matter what. But this was Daddy and wasn't she _supposed_ to obey Daddy too? But Mommy didn't tell her she should leave for Daddy. And Daddy didn't sound right.

She was six years old, she could do so many things, she could ride a two wheeler, she could color in the lines...

"What's this? You're not in your bed, little girl," her daddy said, and he was trying to sound happy, like this was all some game they were playing, but he didn't _sound_ happy, he sounded wrong, so very _wrong._

She was six years old, she could button her own shirt, even if they were tiny buttons.

 _"Where are you, little girl?"_

She could add numbers. She could even subtract some numbers.

More thumping, more stomping. "You're not under the bed, my little Rhiannon, where are you? Daddy _needs_ you!"

She could brush her own teeth, she could wash her own face.

"Get out here, little girl, Daddy needs to talk to you, right _now!"_ His voice was getting louder, so much louder.

She knew how long to wash her hands for, she knew she had to sing Old MacDonald while she washed them to make sure the soap was on long enough. One whole verse. She usually picked a pig as the animal, because 'oink' was such a funny word.

She heard his hand on the knob to the closet door, she closed her eyes, and heard the door fling open. "There you are!" he said, and it would have sounded like a game, except that his voice was so loud, too loud. "C'mere my little princess, my little _fucking_ princess."

She felt a hand grabbing her by her arm, pulling her to her feet and even though she didn't want to go, even though she knew this wasn't part of Mommy's instructions, she found herself letting it happen, she didn't even fight it as he hauled her out of the closet, because part of her _wanted_ it to happen, wanted to see her Daddy and _wanted_ to get this over with too, whatever _it_ was.

"Look at you." Her daddy pulled her into her bedroom, and the lights were bright and she stood there, blinking in the middle of the room. Her Daddy knelt down in front of her, groaning a little bit as he did, because his knees hurt all the time. "look at you, my perfect little fucking Angel. My beautiful, evil, fucking baby angel, my pretty bitch fucking angel, future cocksucking little angel whore."

So many _bad_ words, she knew sometimes that Daddy used bad words, Mommy always scolded him when he did, but usually it was just one bad word and it always sounded like a mistake, like the bad word had just slipped out. But now he was saying the bad words deliberately, like they were the most important part of the conversation.

"Daddy loves his little fucking Angel," he continued, staring at her and his eyes were red, so red, like where they were supposed to be white, they were red instead. Red with a blue ring, that you could hardly see, then black, oh so black. "And Daddy is so sorry about Mommy, baby girl. I'm so sorry that your Mommy was an evil bitch. I'm so sorry that I'm an evil bastard. But it is what it is. We didn't want to be this way, but we can't help it. We're evil, we're fucked up. And all I could do was fix it."

That's when he lifted his other hand and she saw the gun. And she knew instantly, that it wasn't a toy gun, it was a real one. The way he held it, it looked _so_ heavy, and _so_ cold and _so_ mean looking. Her Mommy had told her about guns before, told her that if she ever saw a gun, not to touch it, not to stay in the same room with it. She was to leave the room and go someplace without guns and to call her.

 _What was her daddy doing with a gun?_

"Mommy will never spread her evil again, my fucking angel sunshine," her daddy said, "And soon, neither will you."

She didn't know what he meant, but the gun was bad and she just knew that whatever her Daddy had planned it wasn't good. "Daddy," she swallowed, forcing herself to speak, even though every word was so hard to say, as if someone was sitting on her chest, not letting her breathe right. "Y-you n-need t-t-to go to b-b-bed, you're sick. Mommy will b-b-bring you medicine, j-just go to b-b-bed."

"Mommy can't bring me medicine," her daddy said, and he sounded almost sad. "Mommy's gone, Rhiannon, baby. Mommy's gone to hell where all demons belong. Where all evil bitches go. She was _evil,_ baby. A demon wearing an Angel's face. Did you know that Lucifer was the fairest angel of them all? He was. Your mama was a fair angel too. That's why I fell in love with her. But she was evil, little Rhiannon. We both were. I was _never_ a fair angel, but I always was a demon. And we made you. You, our perfect little Angel. But you're a demon, baby. Or, you will be. You can't escape it, it's the family curse. We poisoned you, baby. I'm _so_ sorry."

"It's okay to be sorry, but you have to not _do_ it anymore!" she said, something her mommy told her. "That's how you fix it!"

"I am going to fix it," her daddy said. Then he raised that gun, and he pressed the bad end into her forehead.

Rhiannon froze. She knew _so_ many things, she knew how to use the remote on the TV to find her favorite TV channels, she knew how to answer the phone politely, she knew that you only petted cats so their fur went in the right direction, not the wrong direction.

She knew that guns killed people.

She knew that dead was forever.

She knew that Daddy had killed Mommy.

She knew Daddy wanted to kill her.

She looked at him. "Daddy, no!" she said, and her voice was barely a whisper, even though she wanted to scream and scream and scream, so loud that the gun would disappear. But all she could do was squeak like a little mouse. "Daddy, no, please, I don't want to- please, Daddy."

"Close your eyes, baby girl, and it will all be over soon," her daddy crooned as if they were at the doctor's and he was about to give her a shot.

In the vague, far away, distance, she heard what sounded like a knock on the door. A persistent knock. Was someone at the door? "Answer the door, Daddy!" she said, hoping this would distract him. "Someone is at the door, you have to answer it!"

"No, Baby, I have to finish this first," her daddy said. "They'll come in soon enough, the fucking neighbors called the fucking cops. But it doesn't matter, I just have to finish this and then they can come in here and do whatever they want, it won't matter. So just close your eyes my little Demon Angel and it will all be over soon."

"I don't want to!" She knew her voice was whiny, knew how much her daddy and mommy _hated_ whiny voices, but she was so scared and she couldn't help herself. She didn't want to die. She knew _so_ much, but she knew she still had so much more to learn and she wanted to learn it.

"Close your eyes, baby girl," her daddy ordered. "Close them now, or you're in big trouble."

The knocking was getting louder. Was it the police? Would the police get mad at her and take her away for not listening to her Daddy? She knew that's what the police did sometimes. She had seen it happen in the building they lived in, the police taking people away. Her Mommy told them that the police only did that if someone had done a very, _very_ bad thing. Was not closing her eyes a bad thing? Would that get her taken away?

"D-do I have to do it?" she whispered.

"Yes,"

The gun felt hot and cold on her forehead and she thought if he kept it on much longer, it would melt into her forehead and become part of her. "Daddy!" she whispered, then slowly, closed her eyes while the pounding got louder and now there were voices coming with the pounding, voices screaming to open the door. _I'll be good,_ she thought, _I'll let it happen._

It seemed like forever she heard the yelling and the pounding, but she kept her eyes shut, waiting for what would come, waiting for her Daddy to pull that trigger. But that didn't happen, but the knocking and the yelling got louder and louder.

"I can't do it."

She felt the pressure on her forehead stop and she opened her eyes. Her Daddy now had the gun pressed the underside of his mouth and he was staring at her. "I can't do it, baby," he said, his voice soft as the gun pressed into his throat making it harder for him to talk. "I know I should do it, my little DemonAngel, but I can't. I'm sorry, I can't fix you. I can only-"

" _Daddy, **don't!** "_ she screamed, finally finding her voice, finally able to scream and she did scream as loudly as she could, but maybe the sound of splintering wood drown out her loud scream, because her Daddy pulled the trigger, he pulled it and there was a huge, loud noise and she found herself just screaming and screaming as her daddy's head just exploded like a melon smashed on the floor and blood and other stuff just sprayed everywhere.

"Daddy," she whispered, and as he fell back on the floor, she fell on top of him, clinging to him, crying. "Daddy, I love you, daddy, come back."

She knew so many things

But she never could figure out how to fix her daddy.

 _End of Prologue_

* * *

 **Author's Notes** : Been awhile, hasn't it? Sorry, blame life. Job is still being ridiculous, and husband and I were in a car accident. (Long story, but we're both okay, now, at least physically. The car I was driving? A car left to me by my father when he died? That's totaled. If cars go to Heaven though, I hope my dad is driving around in something cooler than a Ford Taurus station Wagon) But, I'm trying to get back in the swing of things.

I actually started this story quite awhile ago. I thought I was going to abandon it, but then I got inspired to work on it again. I have a couple chapters finished. This is kind of a break for me, because while I have plans, I can also see where I might switch things around.

I know this prologue was a little on the gloomy side, but trust me, the whole story won't be this gloomy.

If you like it, please let me know. Because I'm not sure if I've still got "it" or not. But, even if it's just to say, "Hey, good start!" or "I'd like to see more" I'd be really grateful.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER** : Baron ain't mine. Neither are any of the other wrestlers in this chapter. Original characters are the products of my own imagination and any resemblance to anyone, real or fictional, living or dead is purely coincidental.

 **Ties That Blind  
** _Chapter One  
Present time  
Three Months Earlier..._

On the best of days, Baron Corbin could be a little moody, and this was not one of his best days. They were in Worcester Massachusetts, setting up for a house show, and he was getting _really_ close to fed up. It wasn't that he was lazy, he didn't mind bringing the stuff in, but the setting up was not his thing. Even worse, he didn't get why they even _had_ to set up. They were the talent, and in his opinion, they were too good for this stuff. Sure, when NXT was new, it was different, paying your dues and all such. Everyone knew that musicians started out being their own roadies, but NXT was no longer the garage band, doing Slipknot covers at the corner bar, they were selling out arenas. Secondary arenas, perhaps, but they did their own stuff now, they were recognized. NXT were no longer just the kids at Thanksgiving, waiting to be invited to the adult's table, they were a force of their own. Surely, they had progressed beyond having to be their own road crew, hadn't they?

When he finally got the last of the heavy stuff off the trucks and into the arena, then the calling started. Everyone else had become experts on one thing or another and were starting doing what they did best. Since Baron hadn't bothered to specialize, everyone seemed to think he was available to help them and only them. And he didn't mind helping, but when six people wanted you right that second, it could drive you crazy. And he'd barely put down the last load when it started.

"Baron, I could use your help with this!" Bayley called out first.

"Baron, over here, buddy!" Enzo's call was right behind Bayley's.

Enzo was close, but Bayley had asked first, as he paused to figure out which he should go to, other people started calling out to him, Rhyno, Sammy, Carmella, on and on, until it felt to him like the whole room was shouting for him, demanding his attention. He stood there for a moment, his brain and body frozen, then for some reason, his brain clicked that his phone wasn't on him, it was still on the bus, in his jacket pocket. "I'll be back, I need to get my phone," he said, and before anyone could object, he turned sharply on his heel and hurried out the door.

Outside, it was a cool June day, sunny and bright, and Baron leaned against the wall to the arena, taking several deep breaths. It wasn't that he wasn't a team player, he'd played football before this. He knew how to be a team player. But he also knew he wasn't capable of doing ten things, helping out seven people at once. And he also knew that every one of them would think that they were a priority over anyone else, whatever they were doing was the most important thing. It was a no win situation. _Fuck it_ , he thought, remembering that just a little ways down the road was a small convenient store. He'd go down there and pick up some drinks and things, enough for everyone. Maybe even a couple of those silly My Little Pony cookies he was seeing popping up at certain stores, Bayley would get a kick out of one of those. He'd bring a bunch of stuff back, the setting up would be mostly done, or at least done to the point where he could help out and not feel like he was under the gun about it. Yeah, it was a good plan. It was hot and stuffy in the arena, for him to bring drinks would cover up for being less help.

It was warm enough that he didn't need his jacket and he figured leaving the phone behind was a good idea too. At this point, Baron felt very much like the Lone Wolf character he portrayed and being unable to be reached was just fine with him. Straightening up, he headed away from the arena, towards the convenient store.

* * *

Alexis "Lexi" Coley was running late and she wasn't happy about it. There was a _huge_ sale going on at her _favorite_ shoe boutique and she _knew_ if she didn't get there soon, she'd be starting the summer season with last years strappy sandals and that just wouldn't do at _all_. She'd been planning this since she got the notification on her iphone about the sale and even though she'd woken up _so_ early that morning, before _nine o'clock_ even _,_ everything had been conspiring _against_ her.

"Note to self," she muttered as she climbed into her car, "do _not_ try to get Daddy's credit cards when Mommy is around." Her daddy had been just about to hand her his Amex, reaching for his wallet automatically, but her mother had stopped him, instead deciding to lecture Lexi yet _again_ , about how she needed to grow up, take responsibility, that since Lexi had graduated from High School that she needed to either go to college or get a job. Lexi's mouth twisted into a sneer as she thought about it, Mommy was _such_ a buzzkill. Ever since she'd hit the menopause, and Lexi had graduated, she'd been a complete _monster_ , expecting Lexi to forsake her youth and take some "responsibility" for herself. It was such… _bullshit_. Lexi was young and beautiful and this was supposed to be the prime of her life, right? Was she _really_ supposed to waste it working in some stuffy building? Having to get up early in the morning, so she couldn't even go clubbing at night? There was plenty of time for being grown up and responsible when she got really old, say thirty. In the meantime, she just wanted to have fun and she saw nothing wrong with that. And even after Mommy _finally_ shut up and went to get ready for work, it had taken even _longer_ to convince Daddy to hand over the Amex. But, on a good note, she had thrown in that if Daddy would just get her her own card, they would be able to avoid this in the future and Daddy didn't dismiss the idea. It would serve Mommy right if Daddy did get Lexi her own card. And it would finally give Lexi the independence she craved. She wanted to be independent, she just didn't want to pay for it.

She felt better when she got into her car. She _loved_ her car, it was easily the _cutes_ t car in the world. It was a Smart car, which meant she _couldn't_ be one of those crass self-centered people her mother said she was. Smart cars were just that, _smart_. People who _cared_ bought Smart Cars and she cared. Exactly what she cared about, she wasn't sure, but she had the feeling it had something to do with the environment. But her Smart car wasn't just _any_ old Smart car, it was special. After Daddy bought it for her, which hadn't taken much pleading on her part at all, she had gotten him to pay to have it customized and now it was perfect! The interior had thick, hot pink carpeting and white leather seats and a pink dashboard. The steering wheel was white leather and she kept hand sanitizer and _always_ cleaned off her hands before touching it, wanting to keep it that oh-so-white color.

The outside had been painted too, pink and white and on the doors and back were the friendly face of her favorite cartoon character of all time, Hello Kitty. And they weren't wraps or decals, they had been _painted_ on, so they'd last _forever._ And best of all, on the roof, there were, these sculptures, designed to make her car look like it had Hello Kitty ears! There was even a red bow on the ear of the driver's side, _just_ like Hello Kitty! Other people had Hello Kitty Smart cars, she had seen them on the internet, there was even one girl in the city who owned one, but _none_ were as nice or as special as hers. Lexi knew, with smug satisfaction, that she owned the best and the cutest Hello Kitty Smart car in the world. Why, even if there were other planets out there, or parallel universes, where Hello Kitty and Smart cars were around, _her_ car would be far superior to any of those either, even ones that might be owned by an alternate version of her!

As she was starting up the car, murmuring sweet things to it, telling it that it was the best Hello Kitty Smart car in the word, nay, the _universe_ , her phone buzzed telling her she had a text. She started out of the driveway and held up her phone, reading the text and looking at the road at the same time. Sure, everyone said you shouldn't text and drive, but what did _they_ know? Those people were probably old people, like her parents, with poor reflexes. She could text and drive perfectly, she was young and had reflexes like a cat… or, better, she had _Hello Kitty_ reflexes.

The text was from her current bestie, Tiffany, and she was asking where she was. She and Tiffany had agreed to meet at the store, and obviously, Tiff had gotten there earlier. Well, that wasn't too surprising, Tiff had a job, which meant she didn't have to argue with her parents to get her daddy's credit card, she had her own money. Frowning at the injustice of life, Lexi drove down the road, and started texting her friend:

Sorry! Mom's a beeyotch! B there soon!" She held the phone with one hand as she pushed her foot on the gas pedal, trying to make up for lost time. She wished Tiff was in the car so she could just talk to her, instead of text. Yesterday when she was texting and driving, she got another ticket, that was still safely locked in the glove compartment. It would be so much easier if there was a way to just _talk_ to Tiff in real time.

Her phone dinged again and she looked. _"Hurry! Place is a zoo!"_

Sighing, she leaned over the steering wheel so she could hold her phone in one hand and text with the other. "Going fast as I can!" she typed back.

" _Do you want me to hide some sandal_ _s for you?"_

She debated that for a moment. It would be a good idea, _if_ Tiff understood shoes. But Tiff was a great friend, often willing to pay for drinks if they went out clubbing together, which was why Lexi liked her so much, but she was _horrible_ at shoes, never buying heels that were higher than a couple of inches and always wanting a back strap on her sandals, which, to Lexi, defeated the whole _purpose_ of sandals in the first place. Still, maybe if she explained it carefully, she'd be able to save her something she'd wear. "OK. Hide one of every type." she typed, alternating between looking at the road and looking at the screen of her phone. She _really_ needed to get one of those apps that would allow her to talk instead of typing messages. In situations like this, when she needed to get someplace in a hurry and needed to text, it would come in so handy. Her older sister Alison had one, and was telling her all the time how much easier it made things. And Alison would know, because Alison was just one of those cool people who was always up on the latest thing. Lexi frowned, thinking of Tiff and the sandals and added, "Look for really hi heels!" then, realizing that even that wouldn't work, she started trying to call up the website for the store, so she could flick through the shoes she liked and send pictures so Tiffany would really get this, because this was so important.

And time was ticking down mercilessly. Paying more attention to her texting and web searching, Lexi pushed her foot hard on the gas pedal and zoomed down the street.

* * *

Even though the street seemed deserted, Baron still looked both ways before he stepped into the crosswalk. The store wasn't too far, and his mind was on an ice cold Red Bull, thinking an energy boost was just what he needed to get through today. He'd be wrestling tonight at the show, something he was looking forward to, but that wasn't for hours and he needed a pick-me-up to get him to that point.

He heard the whine of an engine, at first far enough off that he wasn't worried, but then realizing it was getting way too close, way too fast. He looked up, frozen to the spot as something… very pink and white was bearing down on him, like the worlds cutest predator. His brain froze, freezing his body too, unable to move, part of him expecting the massive cuddle on wheels to come to a sudden stop.

The cuddliest car in the universe didn't even slow down, just ran into him, throwing Baron onto the hood, then crashing off the windshield, carrying him several feet before the vehicle finally stopped and he went crashing onto his back onto the street. Pain shot through him, through his arm, his legs, his knees, his back, until he pretty much concluded that every part of him was one massive ball of pain. He tried to shut his eyes, as if by closing them, he'd close off the pain, but it didn't help. Gasping, he felt tears coming to his eyes, not tears of sorrow, but pain turning to liquid behind his eyes and spilling out.

He was vaguely aware of hearing a door open and shut, heard the clicking of heels on the road and a young female voice going, "Oh, shit! Oh shit, oh shit, _oh shit,_ are you all right, baby? Are you okay?"

He looked up, expecting to see someone above him, but saw nothing. With great effort he turned his head and saw someone, a woman, his impression of her all pink and blonde. She was kneeling by the car, looking at it and talking to it as if it were alive. "Are you okay, Hello Kitty? Did that bad man _hurt_ you?" She was stroking the hood tenderly, caressing it gently.

 _I must be hallucinating,_ he thought. _I was in a **crosswalk** , she's **got** to know she fucked up big time_. "Am-Ambulance!' he gasped, a spasm of pain overtaking him, making him feel as if his lungs were on fire.

The girl stood up from the car and walked over to him, long tanned legs wearing impossibly high heels. "Well, god, didn't _you_ cause a mess!" she said, shaking her head. "You hurt Hello Kitty Smart Car! Why can't you watch where you're _going?_ God, you're a menace to drivers everywhere! Who just goes crossing the road without _looking?"_

He stared at her in disbelief, feeling something warm and wet starting to cover his pants. At first he thought he'd pissed himself, but then he realized it was originating from his knees and was obviously not urine. "Blood," he whispered.

The girl looked him over, then made a face as she saw the crimson staining his pants. "Oh my god, is that blood? Doesn't blood eat at paint or something? God, you _better_ not have hurt the paint on my car! I mean, you've done enough damage, you careless _asshole!"_

He managed to move his head enough, even though it hurt, to see the pink monster that had hit him and noticed with some satisfaction that the windshield was cracked and there was a dent in the hood. He would have preferred it had been nothing but a smoking heap of pink and white slag, but he'd settle for this.

He looked at the woman who was tapping away on her phone. "You'd better have insurance," she threatened him.

"Blue cross," he gasped. "Card-in-wallet."

She looked at him as if he was the stupidest being on the face of the planet and rolled her eyes. "I'm not talking _medical,_ I couldn't care _less_ if you have medical. I mean like auto insurance. Because you are going to _have_ to fix my _car!"_

Even though his thoughts were clouded in a heavy blanket of pain, part of Baron still knew this woman was full of something warm, brown, and squishy, and longed to tell her so, but he also realized that she was the only person around. He didn't have his phone on him, and even if he did, he doubted he could reach it. His body just did not want to function. So, as much as he longed to tell this pink and blonde devil's cupcake where she could take her attitude and stick it, he fought off the urge. "Please," he whispered, hoping his voice sounded humble enough. "Need… ambulance."

"So? Call one!" she said, her own fingers flying across the face of her own phone.

"No...phone," he mumbled. "Please? Hurt bad."

"Who the hell goes out in public without a phone?" She paused and looked at him, her eyes traveling over his body. "Yeah, I guess you _are_ kinda messed up. Well, I have to call the cops anyway to report this. Unless you're like a billionaire and can pay for my car out of your own pocket. Which I doubt, looking at _those_ jeans. Are those really Wranglers? Icky."

"Please?" he asked again. "Call… need help."

"Yeah, hang on… I just have to tell Tiff I'm going to run a little late." Her fingers kept flying over the front of her phone as she typed out a message to this "Tiff" and then hit send. When she was finally satisfied, she looked at him, "Can I just send a text to 911?"

Even though it hurt, hurt worse than any pain he'd ever known in his life, Baron managed to make his voice a little louder than the harsh whisper it had been. _"Call!_ I'm _dying,_ here!"

"All right, all _right!"_ the girl said, shaking he head and rolling her eyes. "God, you are _way_ overreacting. You're still able to talk, you can't be hurt _that_ badly! Not nearly as bad as poor Hello Kitty Smartcar." She pushed some buttons on her phone and brought it up to her ear. "Hello? 911? I've had an accident and I need help. Yeah, it's on Sunset Avenue. I need the police here right away with a proper tow truck. I want one where my car will not be towed in the front so it's rolling on those back wheels, I want all four wheels up safely on something. And make sure the driver is _very_ experienced, I don't want someone new to this to be towing my baby. And I need it as soon as possible."

The fog in his brain was growing thicker and his thoughts heavier as he listened to her talking to the 911 operat or, her voice a steady stream not letting the person on the other end get a word in edgewise. Unable to form coherent words, he just opened his mouth and let out a long, low screaming moan.

She stared at him, startled, then said into the phone, "Oh yeah, and you might want to bring an ambulance too. This guy walked right into my car and I think he's hurt. There's a lot of blood."

He was almost to the point of unconsciousness when she finally hung up and looked at him. "They're sending an ambulance and a cop. Don't pass out if you can help it, they'll need a statement from you." She stared at him, long and hard for a bit. Then her expression softened. "My name is Lexi," she said, smiling and twirling a lock of blonde hair in her fingers. "And I'll bet you're kinda cute when you're not all bloody and gross. Maybe you'd like to go out, sometime? Like, when you're better and all?"

That was the point where he mercifully passed out.

* * *

 **Author's Notes : **Special thanks goes to Aeon for her hand holding, comfort and encouragement. And yes, Lexi _is_ Alison's sister (if you want her to be) To readers that have no clue what that means? Go check out The Tau Hypothesis on her page. It's a great story and you'll get a brief glimpse at Alison Coley.

Thank you to everyone who read this. More thanks to everyone who favored/followed this. Even _more_ thanks to anyone who took/takes the time to review. I've been out of the loop so long, I wasn't sure if I still *had* it or not. Thank you for the encouragement and I hope you like this latest chapter.

Until next time  
Peace Out  
Willow


	3. Chapter Two

**Ties That Blind**

 _Chapter Two_

Three months had passed since the accident, the accident that took only seconds to happen, but the accident that would likely be affecting Baron for the rest of his life. Three months where he'd had way too much time to contemplate things, like how the hell could a _Smart Car_ do all that damage to his body?

He had all this extra time to think because he sure wasn't doing much of anything else. He wasn't wrestling, he'd needed two separate surgeries on his back and one on his hip and knee, and he'd be doing the rehab and physical therapy for another six months at least, possibly more. And, when it was all done, there was _still_ a question if he'd ever been able to wrestle again.

He sure as hell wasn't _enjoying_ his time off, either. His girlfriend had left him, apparently she enjoyed being the girlfriend of a minor celebrity and active wrestler, she did _not_ enjoy being the girlfriend of a convalescing wrestler who spent most of his time either at doctors appointments, physical therapy, or staring at the walls of the apartment they once shared. It was while at one of these appointments, one he'd gotten a friend to drive him to, she had packed up her stuff and moved out, leaving a note propped up by the coffee maker. "Sorry, Bar, I can't take this anymore. Life is too short to play nursemaid to someone who won't even _try_ to have fun." She had signed her name at the bottom in a flowing, curly script that reminded him of a thirteen year old school girl, right down to dotting her i's with tiny circles. Her true feelings though, were expressed by a PS that read, "Only you could get that messed up getting hit by a Hello Kitty Smart Car. Seriously Bar, that car doesn't make you a victim, it makes you the punchline of a bad joke."

Once the initial shock wore off, Baron realized he wasn't all that upset she'd left. Their relationship wasn't real, built more on his status than any true connection. She had been fairly fun in bed, at least willing to try new things, but since the accident, spending time alone with her had proved to be painful as she seemed to resent him for the accident, as though he had deliberately stepped in front of the car, just to ruin her day. And it struck him that her remark about getting hit by the Hello Kitty car was exactly the type of thing, Lexi would likely say, if he'd been dating her, and gotten hit by a Volkswagon bug, painted to look like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle or something.

He hadn't gone out with Lexi, the driver of the runaway Hello Kitty Smart Car that had ruined his life, although she had called him once to ask him how he was doing, and then proceeded to rant about all the damage he had caused to her car and how much trouble she was in because of the accident. He had finally hung up on her, mid sentence. She had tried to call back, but he didn't answer. After that, he blocked her number from his phone.

The only thing he regretted about his girlfriend leaving was that he had no one to help him. Not that his girlfriend had been a lot of help, and the help she did offer was tinged with whining about why they had to stay home all the time. But, she still was _some_ help. If she was going into the kitchen, she might ask him if he wanted something. She brought take out food back to the apartment sometimes, and even drove him to rehab and doctor's appointments, if they were late enough in the day that she was awake. Now Baron had no one and getting around was still not easy. Doing _anything_ wasn't easy. He was at the point where he was ready to ask his doctor if he could possibly check into a rehab center, when Hunter called and told him he had a proposition for him.

"A proposition?" Baron repeated, "For me? Trips, I'm flattered, but I'm just not that type -"

"This isn't a time for jokes," Hunter cut him off, not unkindly, but firmly. "If you weren't planning on going anywhere, Stephanie and I can be at your place in an hour."

Baron snorted, but answered. "I'll be here." _Where else am I going to go?_ he thought, _Fucking Mardi Gras?_

When he'd hung up, he looked around his apartment and sighed. The place wasn't filthy, but it had gotten a little cluttered since his girlfriend, no, make that _ex_ -girlfriend left. Pizza boxes and various other food delivery containers littered the small living room, along with books and magazines he'd read or was reading. He managed to make it into the kitchen to get a trash bag, and had actually cleared off a chair and the sofa by the time the Helmsley's showed up. He managed to get the over stuffed trash bag out of sight before he opened the door.

Hunter didn't seem to mind the state of the apartment, didn't even seem to notice it, which didn't surprise Baron in the least. When Triple H had an idea he was acting on, he could be single minded. Stephanie, on the other hand, looked around the place and for a moment, her face wore an expression that Baron thought straddled perfectly between disgust and pity. Baron was tempted to make a comment, but almost as quickly as the expression appeared on her face, it disappeared and in its place was an expression of such pure neutrality, that almost mimicked boredom.

Baron took the newly cleared off chair, letting Stephanie and Hunter have the sofa. Small talk was exchanged, most of it asking how Baron was doing. Baron answered their questions, part of him praying they wouldn't expect him to play host and get them coffee or cold drinks. His refrigerator contained nothing but condiments and some leftover take out food, that had been there longer than he could remember. He _might_ have some beers in there too, Baron was friendly with the delivery guy from his favorite pizza place, so the young man was always willing to stop at the store and pick him up beer, knowing it was good for at least a twenty dollar tip. But Baron wasn't sure that this occasion called for beer.

Fortunately, Hunter seemed little interested in drinks and wanted to get to the point. "It isn't certain you'll be able to wrestle again," he said. Baron tried to keep his annoyance at bay, but something must have flashed in his eyes, because Stephanie offered a watery smile and Hunter shrugged before continuing. "I'm just being honest. We've been in touch with your doctors and there _is_ a chance you'll never be able to wrestle again."

"We hope that isn't true," Stephanie said, her voice soft.

"Me too," Baron said, forcing himself not to scowl. Yes, Hunter was speaking the truth, but it wasn't a truth Baron felt he needed to hear, especially since his own mind reminded him of that very fact, several thousand times a day.

"There's nothing we'd like more than to see you wrestling again," Hunter continued. "And we're willing to do anything possible to make sure that happens. But let's be realistic, it might not. Have you given any thought to what you'll do with your life, _should_ that happen?"

"Not really," Baron said, hoping he didn't sound like he was snapping. "I thought I'd get through this first and see if I have to find a new career."

"We have a business proposition for you," Hunter said. His voice was low, but it was neither kind nor unkind. It was the voice of a man who was staying in control, a man who knew he had the upper hand in this conversation. "We would like to offer you a chance to come up to Connecticut while you recover. We have already made arrangements for you to have the best doctors available working with you. We already have a physical therapy gym in the main house with all the latest equipment and we have already spoken to one of the finest physical therapists in the world. He's been the physical therapist for many top sports figures when they were recovering. He will come every single day and make sure you are getting the proper therapy you need. If more surgeries are needed we will pay for that. In basic language, we will pay whatever is necessary to make sure you have the very best care while you are recovering. We will do everything in our power to make sure you will be able to one day return to the ring and become the WWE Superstar we know you can be."

Baron noticed that Stephanie said nothing during this exchanged, but occasionally her head would dip slightly in a barely perceptible nod. She was agreeing with her husband, without being obvious about it. Baron wasn't sure what that meant, but he had been around enough to know that when someone was making you an incredible offer, you paid attention to everything. "What happens if I can't go back to wrestling?"

"Then, we will find something else for you to do." Hunter said, his gaze fixed on Baron. "I'm prepared to make sure you are set for life, Baron. I'm prepared to offer you a contract with a guaranteed income of ninety thousand a year, for the rest of your life. This, of course, is only if you are _unable_ to wrestle. If you _are_ able to wrestle again, your income will go much higher, and of course, we'll do everything in our power to make sure you become one of our top superstars. But, no matter how long your wrestling career is, that ninety thousand a year will always be yours. I promise we will always find a job for you to do in the WWE, no matter what your physical or even mental capacities are or become."

Baron studied Hunter for a moment, half expecting him to burst into laughter and say, "Gotcha!" even though he could never see Hunter going to these lengths for a prank of sorts. "Okay," he finally said, "Who do I have to kill?"

"Excuse me?"

To give Hunter credit, he really did look surprised. "C'mon, Mr. Helmsley," Baron said, deciding to be somewhat formal, at least in how he was addressing him. "I think I'm a pretty good wrestler, but I'm not the best. I'm still in the learning stage. I'm rough on the mic, we all know that. There are folks that have more superstar potential than I do, so why _me?_ Why are you making this offer to _me?_ Because I'm not stupid, I know I'm replaceable. And you're willing to offer me ninety thousand dollars a year for the rest of my life, even if I _don't_ wrestle? What's the catch, because I _know_ there is one."

At this, Hunter and Stephanie looked at each other, then to him. "We'd never ask you to kill someone," Stephanie finally said.

"Yeah, but it can't be because of my _amazing_ looks or my _sparkling_ personality," Baron said. "Because again, I know I'm a good wrestler and I know someday if I'm lucky, I'll be one of the greats, but it isn't someday, _yet._ So, what do I have to do for this awesome deal you're throwing at me? Because whatever it is, it must be pretty serious."

Again, Hunter and Stephanie exchanged looks, and for a moment that seemed a lot longer than it was, there was silence in the room, until Hunter finally spoke. "Well, part of the deal for going up to Connecticut is that, we need you to keep someone company."

Baron stared at him. "Keep someone _company?"_ he repeated. "Why? Is this person unable to make friends on his own, so you're hiring me?"

"She's a she," Stephanie said.

" _She?"_ Baron stared at Stephanie, then, unable to resist, laughed. "You want me to go to Connecticut to keep a _woman_ company? What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing!" Hunter said, his voice louder than it had been. He wasn't physically shouting, none-the-less, Baron could hear shouting in his words. "She's a _very_ nice young woman. _Quite_ attractive, too."

"Oh, an _attractive_ young woman," Baron said, followed by another burst of laughter. "Well, thank god she's attractive!" He leaned forward in his chair, looking at Hunter, noting with amusement that his boss, Triple H, the man who normally defined the meaning of the world "calm" was beginning to look _very_ agitated. "I wouldn't want to befriend an _un_ attractive young lady. Tell me, Hunter, what do you want me to _do_ to keep her company?"

"It's not _like_ that!" Stephanie snapped.

"We figure it's beneficial for both of you," Hunter said. "You could use someone to help you, due to your physical limitations. And she needs some company. I know what you must be thinking, but Stephanie is right, it's not like that, not at all."

Baron fixed his gaze on her. "Oh, really? Then what _is_ it like? Why do you need _me_ to keep this woman company?" Again, Stephanie and Hunter started exchanging looks and while part of Baron was still amused at this situation, he felt part of him growing angry too. Something was going on, something about this generous offer wasn't sitting right, and Stephanie and Trips were treating him as someone might treat a child, dangling a particularly tempting prize over his head in hopes that he would leap for the prize and not ask questions, but instead of an ice cream cone, or a shiny bicycle, the prize was a guaranteed income of ninety thousand dollars a year. "C'mon Hunter, C'mon Stephanie, what's going on? This whole situation sounds _ridiculous_. You want to bring me up to Connecticut, put me up in your house-"

"Our _guest_ house," Stephanie firmly interrupted. "She's staying in the guest house and you'll stay there too."

"Okay, your _guest_ house," Baron said. "Still, why are you offering me this? And why do you need me to keep a woman company? I mean, what's going on? Did you kidnap her or something?"

"No!" Stephanie said, shaking her head as well. "We didn't kidnap her! What type of people do you think we are?"

"I have no idea," Baron countered. "Before you came over, I would never have thought you were the type of people who would offer to pay me ninety grand a year whether I wrestle or not. So, why don't you tell me what type of people you are, and why you have a woman sequestered in your guest house, obviously being isolated to the point where you're willing to _pay_ me to keep her company? Not just pay me while I'm keeping her company, but to continue to pay me, even when I've _stopped_ keeping her company, because I'm betting you're not going to keep her forever, no, I don't think you're into that. But you have some reason, some _purpose_ for bringing her onto your property and keeping her isolated. Whatever it is, it has to be pretty damned important to you, so what _is_ it?"

"She's pregnant with my baby!" Hunter almost shouted.

For almost a full ten seconds, silence as thick and heavy as pea soup fell over the room. Stephanie looked at Hunter, Baron looked at Hunter, and Hunter closed his eyes and shook his head as if he could not believe what had come out of his own mouth.

"Okay," Baron said, finally breaking the silence. "Stephanie? Can you go to my kitchen? Ignore the mess, I can't really clean in this condition. But go to my refrigerator. I believe you'll find a six pack in there. One or two might be missing, but I'm pretty sure there are at least four or five beers in their. Bring one out for me, will you? And if you and Hunter here, want one, you're welcome to it. Hell, I think there's even half a bottle of white wine in there too, left over from the ex, if you'd prefer that."

Baron half expected Stephanie to balk, but she rose from the couch and silently walked to the kitchen.

"It's not what you're thinking," Hunter said, seeming to find his voice once Stephanie began moving. "Let me explain, I-"

Baron raised his hand in a stop gesture and grinned. "I'm sure it's a fascinating tale and I can't _wait_ to hear it," he said. "But I think a story this interesting should be shared over a drink."

 _End of Chapter Two_

* * *

Yes, I know this is a short chapter, but I wanted to get it up and I think it's all that needed to be said.

I'd love a review if you're so inclined. :D


	4. Chapter Three

_**Chapter Three**_

"Again, Baron, this is not what you think," Hunter said, and Barron wasn't sure if his voice sounded forceful or nervous or both. "Not at all!"

Baron raised his index finger, making a "hush" gesture. "Hold on, Hunter," he said, "let's wait for the beers, okay?" He was trying not to break out laughing, and was succeeding at that, but he wasn't able to keep from grinning. The idea that Hunter was in this mess was just something that amused him. Hunter, who always came across like he was all business, Hunter who presented himself as someone who worked hard, but when he _wasn't_ working, was one hundred percent devoted to his wife and his children. That Hunter, his boss, had clearly made one _hell_ of a mistake. Hunter, proving to the world that he had feet of clay.

Stephanie came back into the room, holding two bottles of beer by their necks with one hand, and a glass of wine in the other. "I _knew_ this would happen," she said, her tone dark. She handed Hunter one of the bottles of beer, and for a moment, Baron thought she would throw the other one at him, then she thrust it out to him instead.

Baron took it, feeling instantly ashamed. Stephanie might play a bitch for the WWE, and play the role well enough that he suspected it wasn't all just acting. She might be stern when it came to business, but she had always been a decent person to her employees. On top of that, Baron had observed Stephanie before, when she thought no one was watching her, times with just Hunter, sometimes with Hunter and their three daughters. Stephanie might be the epitome of the hard nosed business woman, but when she was focused on Hunter or her daughters, she softened. Say what you want about Stephanie, but no one could argue her devotion to her family. Baron wasn't sure about the circumstances that had lead to this woman being pregnant with Hunter's baby, but he knew that it was bothering Stephanie. Baron had no problems teasing Hunter about this, but he didn't want to hurt Stephanie, it wasn't fair. "I'm sorry," he found himself mumbling as he twisted open the bottle. He looked at Hunter, as Stephanie settled down on the sofa next to him, with her glass (actually, a twelve ounce tumbler) of wine.

"I _didn't_ cheat on Stephanie, if that's what you're thinking," Hunter said, looking at Baron through narrowed eyes. "I'd _never_ do that."

"Okay," Baron said. He wanted to make another joke, perhaps ask Hunter that if he didn't cheat, how did it happen? Had this girl fallen to the ground naked and Hunter fell on top of her, also naked? But he fought the urge. "Uh, then, how did she get pregnant, with _your_ baby, Hunter?"

"Artificial insemination," Hunter said.

"Oh." Baron frowned, feeling uncomfortable. "Uhm… okay." He had the feeling there were questions he _was_ supposed to ask, and questions he was _not_ supposed to ask and he wasn't sure which was which. And he had a feeling that if he asked the wrong questions, the discomfort would rise to even worse levels.

Fortunately, it seemed that Hunter anticipated that Baron had questions and decided to answer them before he asked them. "You know I love my daughters," he said, his voice almost soft, his eyes taking on a far away look, just for a moment, "There's nothing I wouldn't do for them. But, I have to confess, I'd love to have a son."

Baron nodded, not wanting to speak, merely wanting to encourage Hunter to continue. But to his surprise, Stephanie spoke up instead. "Hunter and I decided to have one more child." She paused to take a sip of wine. "We were hoping for a boy, but it didn't matter, we figured we'd have one last child, male or female, this was it. So, I did what any woman does, I went off my birth control and we tried. Since it's been awhile since I was pregnant, we weren't sure if I'd be able to get pregnant, or if we'd end up going to a fertility specialist, but as it turns out, my body _was_ working just fine. I got pregnant the second month we were trying."

"Okay, well, you don't look pregnant and you don't have a fourth kid, so what happened?" Baron asked.

"Do you remember the accident?" Hunter asked.

For a moment, Baron thought Hunter meant his own accident with blonde and pink Lexi, of the Hello Kitty Smart car, but then he remembered, about a year ago, Stephanie had been in a car accident of her own. Hunter had been down in Florida, working with NXT and Stephanie had flown in to see him. If Baron remembered correctly, Hunter had offered to pick her up from the airport, but Stephanie had elected to have a car and driver pick her up, that she didn't want to interrupt Hunter's work. She never made it to Full Sail. Instead, Hunter's phone had rung and it had been the hospital, there had been an accident and Stephanie had been hurt.

Baron remembered that day clearly, because Hunter had turned Sheamus white first, then Paige white and finally, Casper The Friendly Ghost white, and _ran_ out of the auditorium. For awhile, nobody knew what was going on, then Billy Gunn called all of them together and told them that Stephanie had been in an accident, and it was serious. Billy hadn't had any details, and now that Baron recalled, he never heard any real details. Stephanie got in an accident, she spent a few days in the hospital, but then she was fine and soon enough, it became yesterday's news. Stephanie had her right arm and her lower left leg in a cast for awhile, but that was it. The WWE, being the WWE had spun a story line about The Shield or some other anti-authority group, Baron wasn't sure of the exact details, going after her to explain to the audience why Stephanie was in a cast. In other words, it soon became business as usual and everyone forgot about it.

 _Well, maybe that's everyone that_ _ **could**_ _forget about it,_ _did,_ Baron thought, "I remember it happened," he finally said in answer. "I was never privy to the fine details."

"Nobody was," Stephanie said. "But, needless to say, I lost the baby. We hadn't told anyone yet, we were waiting until the end of the first trimester, when the risk of miscarriage drops significantly." The entire time she spoke, she looked at the tumbler of wine in her hands, refusing to look at either of the two men in the room.

"But it was worse than that," Hunter said. He was alternating his gaze between Stephanie and Baron, but mostly looking at Stephanie, obviously sensing her distress. "They had to perform surgery on her, the accident left her... unable to have children."

It all clicked into place for Baron then. "So, you couldn't try again for a baby, but you guys still wanted one, so you decided to find a woman to donate the egg and the womb."

"Yes," Hunter said, sounding relieved that Baron now understood that he had not cheated on Stephanie. "And we found the perfect woman."

Baron had no doubt that Hunter and Stephanie had found the perfect woman to bear their child. They didn't do anything half-assed, but that still didn't answer why they had this woman in such isolation that they were willing to set him up for the rest of his life just to keep her company. "So, what's the problem?" he asked. "You made an arrangement with this woman, she'll have the baby and turn him or her over to you. Why do you have to hide her on your property?"

"Because we don't want anyone knowing the baby isn't mine," Stephanie said, taking a rather healthy swallow of wine.

"Why not?" Baron asked, brow furrowing. Yeah, sure, there were some folks who might demean or degrade Stephanie for being unable to have another child, some who would think Hunter and Stephanie were wrong, that if they couldn't have a child that biologically belonged to both of them, then they shouldn't bother, it wasn't like they had no children to speak of. But, Baron thought Stephanie and Hunter were strong enough to weather that storm.

"Because-" Stephanie blurted out, then stopped abruptly as if she wasn't sure if she should continue or not.

"Because there are some folks we know who won't approve" Hunter cut in, answering for her.

"Oh, why beat around the bush?" Stephanie said, and now she was looking right at Hunter. "Considering what we're asking, we might as well be honest." She shifted her gaze to Baron. "My father wouldn't like this idea at all," she said firmly. "I love my dad, I think he's a great man in a lot of ways, but he has some strangely old fashioned ideas about bloodlines. If he were to find out this baby technically carries absolutely no McMahone blood? He will never accept him. Oh, he'd _think_ he had, my father isn't a monster. He'd play doting grandfather, come to all the family functions, he and my mother would spoil him at Christmas and on his birthday, but when it came time to make them a part owner in the WWE, or came time to rewrite his will? I think this child would be forgotten."

 _Interesting, it seems like Stephanie is already counting on this child being a boy,_ Baron thought. _Will she feel the same if this woman is carrying another little girl?_ Although, to be fair, he wasn't sure, perhaps the pregnancy was already far along enough to know the sex of the child. "You don't want this kid to feel like an outsider in his or her own family," he said.

"Exactly," Stephanie said, nodding and looking pleased that Baron got it so quickly. "And I know my father wouldn't really mean for it to happen, but it would happen. It would be even worse if the child _does_ turn out to be a boy."

 _Thus answers that question,_ Baron thought. _They don't know, yet._ "I guess I can see that," he admitted truthfully. He hadn't spent much time with Vince, the man was not on the road a lot and had little to nothing to do with NXT, but Baron knew that Stephanie was right. Vince probably wouldn't admit to it out loud, but he would treat this kid differently, and the kid would pick up on it. "But, how are you going to pass yourself off as pregnant?" Baron asked, looking Stephanie up and down.

"We've got that covered," Hunter spoke up now. "We're going to take some time off from the business. Vince and Linda have already been told that Stephanie is pregnant and creative is going to find a way to write us out for awhile. We've also told Vince that we are going to have a home birth."

 _I wonder what he thought of that_ , Baron mused but didn't say out loud. He couldn't imagine Vince as someone who would approve of midwives and home births. In fact, if Baron had to venture a guess, he would imagine Vince more as the type to dismiss these things as tree hugging, crunchy, hippie bullshit. But, he didn't figure this was his problem to worry about. "Okay, so I still don't see why you have to have this woman on your property. Can't she just stay somewhere, stay with her family until she's just about to give birth?"

"No," Hunter said. "The girl has no family. Her father-" he began, then abruptly stopped. "Never mind, let's just leave it as she has no family."

"No, Hunter, not fair. What about her father?" Baron asked. "C'mon, you're asking me to go and keep this girl company, I have a right to know what's going on with her, besides just being pregnant with your baby. What's up with her father?"

Hunter sighed. He was still holding the bottle of beer, and it looked barely touched, but now he brought it to his lips, taking a healthy swallow. No doubt as a stalling tactic. "I knew her father," he finally said. "He was a wrestler, his real name was Victor McCarthy. We met in the Indies. He eventually did get signed by the WWE, but he never made it further than lower development. He did a few house shows and Pre-shows when we were in the area. I think he had real potential, but he got caught up in the party life. Developed a _very_ real and _very_ serious drug problem, which was too bad. His wife was a wrestler too, Susanna. She wasn't a bad wrestler, but she mostly played valet for Victor." He paused again to take another swallow of beer, his eyes taking on a distant look, obviously caught up in the memory. "They had this thing they did. He was the devil, she was the angel. His ring name was Lou Cypher. She was Angelica."

"Lou Cypher? _Lucifer?"_ Baron snorted. "Are you _serious?_ "

Hunter nodded. "I know, it sounds cheesy, and it really should have been, but Victor played it to the hilt. He never broke character, and always played it seriously. If the drugs hadn't gotten so bad with him, there were plans on bringing him up to WWE and having him work with 'Taker and Kane. It's too bad, I think they could have done well with that."

 _The fact that_ _it was also part of the nineties era of wrestling probably helped, too,_ Baron thought, but did not say out loud, _t_ _hose were pretty cheesy times._ "Well, obviously _something_ happened to both Dad and Mom, because you said this girl has no family."

Now both Stephanie and Hunter looked at each other for a long time, and Baron wasn't sure what he saw in their expressions, concern? Fear? Both? And something else, as well. Their faces showed an emotional salad to be sure, but if it was salad, the dressing was revulsion. "What happened to her parents?" Baron asked, a little more forceful this time.

"They...died," Hunter finally said.

Baron knew this was barely scratching the surface the situation. "How?" he asked. "Because from yours and Stephanie's reaction, it wasn't typical and it wasn't pretty."

"It wasn't," Stephanie said, biting her lip.

"When the WWE let Vic go, things didn't improve for him," Hunter said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "They tried to get him into rehab, but he wasn't interested. He jumped on the independent circuit for awhile, each time going further downhill. But, Susanne stayed with him. I pretty much lost touch with him then, I only heard stories from others. It seemed that , he _did_ try to straighten himself out for awhile, after his daughter was born, and it worked for awhile, but then he fell again, and fell even harder. Eventually, the drugs drove him crazy..." Again, Hunter's voice trailed off as if he really wanted to leave it at that.

A horrible thought slithered its way into Baron's mind. "Another Benoit?" he asked.

Hunter nodded. "It didn't get the press Benoit did, because Vic was pretty much an unknown. But, he killed his wife, then turned the gun on himself. But, he spared his daughter."

 _Lucky girl,_ Baron thought, but then wondered if that was really true. _Knowing your dad killed your mom and then himself? That's going t_ _o leave a lot of emotional scars. That's an episode of Dr. Phi_ _l right there. Possibly Maury too._ "How old was she?"

"Six," Stephanie answered, looking down at the ground.

"Wow, that's rough," Baron shook his head. He had a million more questions, but he wasn't sure if he should ask them now.

Apparently, Stephanie thought he'd heard enough as well, because she finished what was left in her glass of wine and put the glass on the coffee table with a bit of a bang, not enough to make Baron or Hunter flinch, but enough that it became a signal. "So, the offer has been made," she said, her tone one of brisk efficiency. "Are you interested?"

"Well, yeah, I'm not stupid," Baron said. "That's a pretty generous offer. And, as you can see..." He motioned to himself, then to the apartment, "I'm not really able to take care of myself. I hope this girl, uhm, what's her name?"

"Rhiannon," Hunter replied.

"Rhiannon," Baron repeated the name, "I hope _Rhiannon_ realizes that should I take this deal, I'm not exactly going to be able to be much help with the housework. Is she ready to play housemaid? Is she able to handle being my nurse, my caretaker?"

"She's not very far along," Hunter said. "She can handle it."

"And, having someone to take care of will be good for her," Stephanie said, sounding slightly annoyed. When Baron fixed her with a sharp gaze, she sighed. "Rhiannon is one of those people who was born to nurture," she explained. "She does a lot of volunteering in her spare time. I think half the problem she's having adjusting, isn't just being alone, it's that she isn't helping someone. Some folks are like that, they are at their best when they can care for others."

Baron understood that, he'd know a few people like that in his life, people who were at their best when they could help another human being. But he wondered about this woman, this Rhiannon. Why would someone who loved to care for others, be so willing to have and then give up a baby? _She might be someone who wants to care for others, but she has her price,_ he thought. _I wonder how much Hunter and Stephanie are willing to pay her for what she's doing for them? I'll bet it's more than ninety grand a year. "_ Can I sleep on this?" Baron asked. "One night, and I promise to give you my answer in the morning."

Hunter and Stephanie exchanged looks again, but Hunter shrugged. "I guess that will be acceptable."

Stephanie looked at him. "We took you in confidence, Baron," she said. "Even if you don't want to come up and keep Rhiannon company, we _do_ expect you to keep quiet about this. _Very_ quiet."

"Oh? What incentive will you offer me for that?" Baron tried not to smirk. "Because I'm pretty sure you're going to try to buy my silence."

"We'll talk about that, tomorrow," Hunter said, rising from the sofa.

* * *

By the time he went to bed, Baron still hadn't decided what he was going to do, his brain was split down the middle. He saw the advantage of the offer, it was hard _not_ to see that, but there still seemed to be something odd about it. Baron wasn't someone who made friends easily. Part of the reason why he worked well with the Lone Wolf image he had, was that it was based a lot on the truth. Once he did make a friend, he was loyal, but he needed the time. The idea of just going up to Connecticut, where he had no friends at all, to live with a total stranger, a total stranger who was pregnant with his bosses kid, was about a nine on the discomfort scale. Throw in that they'd be living on the same property as the boss and his other boss, Hunter's wife, and the discomfort shot up to about twelve.

He ended up having pizza and a twelve pack of beer delivered for dinner, which he ate and drank in front of the TV. He had Netflix and he treated himself to binge watching The Walking Dead. And he told himself that watching TV had distracted him from being able to think about the situation and figure out what he wanted. But, oddly, he could barely remember anything he watched.

He went to bed about midnight, slightly drunk. He also took one of his painkillers, which put him to sleep by the time his head hit the pillow, which was nice. But then at four in the morning, he woke up, feeling hung over and pill groggy along with an almost violent urge to pee. For a moment, he completely forgot about the accident and found himself jumping out of bed to get to the bathroom. The moment he was up, his body reminded him by having his knee buckle and his hip gave out and he went falling to the floor in a heap, pain shooting through him. Later, he would feel sorry for the people who lived in the apartments above, below and next to him, because he knew he let out a shriek. But at that moment, he didn't give a crap if he rendered them all deaf with his cry.

He ended up crawling into the bathroom, which hurt too, and unfortunately, the pain did not lessen his urge to pee, in fact it seemed to make it worse. _God, I can't stand,_ he thought. _I can't get to my feet!_ He crawled over to the sink, and struggling, held himself up on one arm and reached up with the other, feeling around until he found the bottle of painkillers he'd left last night. He got two out of the bottle, popping them into his mouth, and chewing on them, grimacing at the bitter taste, but hoping they would work faster that way.

They did work fast, but not fast enough and much to his horror and shame, he pissed himself, soaking his boxers, getting urine all over the title floor. _I give up,_ he thought, feeling tears behind his eyes and fighting to keep them from spilling out. _I just give the fuck up_.

But he didn't give up. He laid on the floor for a bit, ashamed and horrified at having pissed himself, feeling like a failure for doing something he hadn't done since he was a toddler. For awhile, he allowed himself to wallow in that self pity, then he pulled himself together. He got his boxers off, and ended up using them to mop up the floor, then put them in a sink full of hot water to soak. He managed to get himself into the shower to wash up. Thank god that his ex girlfriend had gotten him a shower chair and one of those shower heads that he could operate sitting down, because he never would have been able to stand in the shower.

By the time he was done and dressed it was well after seven, closer to eight. Deciding it was late enough, he grabbed his cell phone and dialed the number Hunter had given the day before. Hunter answered it on the first ring. "Baron?"

"Yeah, Hunter, it's me," Baron said. "And I'll take the deal. How soon do we leave for Connecticut?"

End Chapter Three.

* * *

 **Author's Notes : Surprise! Update! I know, I know, it's been awhile. I haven't abandoned the story, it's just... well, it's been _interesting_ times lately, and to quote Stephen King, "Writers don't do their best work when times are interesting." Since the accident, it's been one thing after another, some good, some bad. Add it all up, it's _interesting_. **

**But, I'm trying to get in the swing of things. This story is slow going, but it is going. And I'll do my best to try to update more regularly, but if I fall behind, well, I'll just have to beg for my reader's forgiveness. My version of Baron can be tough sometimes. He doesn't talk to me as easily as the head version of Dean did.  
**

 **Speaking of my readers, thank you to all of you who have been reading, favoring, following this story. You don't know what having readers does. When I'm tempted to chuck this and just give it up, I come here and read the comments people have left and that makes me keep going. So, from the bottom of my procrastinating little black heart, I thank you. And I hope I'll be updating a lot sooner the next time.**


End file.
